


last request (lay down beside me)

by aniloquent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Harry Has Cancer, Hospital, M/M, harry cries, liam is briefly mentioned, louis cries, no niall sorry - Freeform, oh well, sorry it's really sad, zayn is just a secretary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloquent/pseuds/aniloquent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know,” Louis snaps, but Harry doesn’t flinch like he wants him to. He’s still, understanding, and dry-eyed, and the tears are coming more easily now. “It’s just - not fair! Why us? Why you?” He hiccups and roughly rubs the wetness from his face. “I just can’t do anything for you, and it’s killing me.”</p><p>Silence sits between them again, and Harry still has a grip on Louis’ hand. “Dance with me.”</p><p>Louis looks over at Harry, who’s staring back up at him. “What?”</p><p>Harry tries his best to shrug. “You said the only time you would even think about dancing was at our wedding. Dance with me now.”</p><p>OR</p><p>the one where harry's dying, louis keeps crying, and they don't have a lot of time together</p>
            </blockquote>





	last request (lay down beside me)

**Author's Note:**

> I highly suggest that you listen to Last Request by Paolo Nutini while reading this, the fic was inspired by that song anyways
> 
> I don't own One Direction or any of the characters in this so enjoy!

Louis runs his hands through his hair at least five times before walking up to the reception counter in the hospice center.

The person there is different, and it’s unsettling to him. Dolores, the lady who’s usually here around this time started wordlessly sending him upstairs, chasing after his sobbing figure with a pitying stare. She stopped asking after the first five times, when he would burst into tears before he could utter anything. After the tenth time, she started leaving Louis hot tea and candies for when he got out.

In her place now, though, is a young, bored-looking teenager, whose half-lidded eyes graze over Louis disinterestedly as he approaches. This contributes to the sixth time Louis fixes his hair. “Who are you here for?” the boy says blandly, caramel gaze making Louis squirm. He’s never been so unnerved in his life.

“Uh, Styles,” the boy sighs and moves his fingers across the keyboard, averting his tawny stare to the computer screen. “I know what room he is, mate,” Louis interrupts, and the boy’s elevated, inky hair wobbles as he whips his head around to look at Louis in slight shock. “One four thirty-one, I’ve been here a few times.” The boy nods wordlessly, watching Louis push himself off the counter and start towards the elevator. “Don’t expect me back for a while!” He calls over his shoulder, not bothering to see the boy’s questioning look following him.

By the time Louis gets to Harry’s room, he’s trembling and cursing. Louis was always the loud, outrageous, fearless one of the group, and now he could barely keep tears out of his eyes. He literally used to ruin careers with one smart flip of the mouth, used to have people quivering in fear at his feet. If only they could see how weak I am now, he thought, and opened the door.

Harry is awake, surprisingly, green eyes wide as ever, focusing upon the dull glow of the television screen as his hospital bed lays flat. Louis wonders if he even heard him come in. The doctor said that his hearing was fading as the tumor spread to his cerebrum. He stomps his feet as loud as he can until Harry looks over at him. His pale face breaks out into a bright grin. “Hi, Lou,” he says, and Louis feel his heart break a little more at how brokenly the words string together.

“Hi, Harry,” he says, and sits down on the spot where Harry is weakly patting for him. “you’re actually up for once.”

He lets out a throaty, clogged laugh, and Louis has to hide his wince behind a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “It’s quite the miracle. I got two protein drinks as a reward.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, feigning an impressed look. “Making big strides aren’t ya, Styles?” Harry nods, running his finger slowly along the lines on Louis’ jeans.

They’re quiet for a moment, and Louis’ throat dries. He knows what’s coming next. He knows that Harry is about to tell him that he wants them to pull the plug early tomorrow, that it was the only way to keep Louis from drowning in debt, that it was the only way to put them both out of their misery. The doctors told him ages ago, but he refused to hear it, insisting that Harry himself be the one to tell him.

Today was that day.

“So, the leukemia is spreading,” Harry says bluntly, and Louis sucks in a breath, nodding for him to go on. “and I know your bills are piling up.”

“Well, that prank where we bought fifty copies of the worst gay porn we could find and shipped it to Liam’s house put me pretty deep in the hole,” Louis says, and felt real pride swell in his chest at the laugh Harry let out, no matter how many coughs followed. They sober again.

“To save me and you and your wallet,” Harry says pointedly, casting an accusing glance at the thin leather in Louis’ back pocket. “I’m pulling the plug.”

Before he can react how he wants too, Louis feels thick tears roll down his cheeks. He heaves a heavy, frustrated sob, angry at the doctors, angry at himself, angry at Harry.

He feels Harry grab his hand, squeezing it weakly, but Louis know he’s trying as hard as he can. “Please don’t cry, love” he says softly, running the cold pad of his thumb along Louis warm skin, as if he’s trying to memorize what he feels like. “It’s better this way.”

“I know,” Louis snaps, but Harry doesn’t flinch like he wants him to. He’s still, understanding, and dry-eyed, and the tears are coming more easily now. “It’s just - not fair! Why us? Why you?” He hiccups and roughly rubs the wetness from his face. “I just can’t do anything for you, and it’s killing me.”

Silence sits between them again, and Harry still has a grip on Louis’ hand. “Dance with me.”

Louis looks over at Harry, who’s staring back up at him. “What?”

Harry tries his best to shrug. “You said the only time you would even think about dancing was at our wedding. Dance with me now.”

Louis chews his lip. He really doesn’t want Harry’s last memory of him to be awkwardly stepping on his feet and kicking him in the shin as some Frank Sinatra song croons through the shitty speaker on his phone. “I could fuck you?”

Harry narrows his eyes. “We both know you couldn’t.”

Louis lets out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He stands up and slides his phone out. “Anything in particular?”

Harry thinks for a minute. “‘Last Request’ by Paolo Nutini.” Louis shoots him a flat, azure look over his thumbs, and Harry settles for a sheepish smile.

Louis jabs a finger, and the song starts to play.

They have to restart it halfway through, though, because it takes longer than expected to get Harry out of bed. When they do, Louis doesn’t think he can take anymore.

He hoists Harry up, and for the first time in eight months, Harry is looking down at him again, grinning at him with those dimples on full display. “Hi.”

Louis feels his eyes misting again. “Hi.”

Harry pulls Louis into his chest with surprising strength, and he feels a chaste kiss on the top of his hair. “Hair’s a mess, Lou,” he murmurs as they sway, stepping around cords and remotes littering the floor. Louis buries his head into Harry’s gown, trying to imagine how solid his chest was, ignoring the way his ribs were poking him now.

“I got nervous.” he defends meekly as Paolo croons _sure, I can accept we’re going nowhere, but one last time let’s go there, lay down beside me_.

Harry rubs his back comfortingly. “I know, baby, I know.”

They step from side to side, encased in one another’s arms for another minute, before Harry starts shaking, a muffled groan leaving his lips. “Louis, I can’t stay up anymore. It hurts.” Louis nods and coaxes Harry to lay down again. Those wide, green eyes are reddened and moist now, and Louis settles for looking down at his own feet.

Lay down beside me, the song plays, and Harry looks up at him pleadingly. Louis nods wordlessly, and squishes into the bed next to him.

Harry’s hand finds his as a violent sob racks through his weak chest. Louis holds on for dear life, intertwining their fingers and staring up at the ceiling as the song finishes.

“I love you Harry, and I always will, okay? Whether you’re healthy, or here, or in the ground. I love you so much, so, so much.” He lifts Harry’s limp hand to his lips and closes his eyes, allowing the moisture from them to spill across two planes of skin.

He doesn’t get a response, and he looks over to find Harry’s eyes closed, mouth parted in a light ‘o’ figure as he sleeps. Louis gives him a watery smile.

He gets to his feet. He collects his phone from the table and presses a kiss to Harry’s forehead before making his way to the door.

Louis watches him sleep until the door completely shuts, and he starts his way towards the elevator.


End file.
